Lord of Solva: Players as My Pawns

The battlefield was drenched in a violent chaos, a relentless blur of noise and bloodshed. Shaoran's sharp eyes flickered over the scene, the constant gunfire and shouts ringing in his ears. The Dark Howlers had made their move—more than a dozen charging through the darkening forest, their shadowy forms blending with the surroundings. Their glowing eyes pierced through the gloom, locked on their prey.

Old Bai, moving with the brutal, mechanical precision of someone who had seen too many battles, aimed his twin rifles. The sharp cracks of gunfire echoed across the clearing as Bai shot at one Dark Howler after another. Each bullet found its mark, but the creatures seemed to shrug off the wounds with terrifying resilience. The night had fallen thick, and Shaoran could already feel the stench of death lingering in the air.

"Keep firing!" Jerry barked, his voice tight with urgency. He had his own rifle in hand, aiming through the sights and squeezing the trigger in rapid succession. The Dark Howlers weren't going down easily, not even after taking shots to their massive, muscular frames. But every shot seemed to weaken them, forcing them back, if only temporarily.

Yet, the battle was far from over.

The Howlers, relentless in their pursuit, closed the gap with terrifying speed. Shaoran could see them now—brutal, twisted beasts, their forms grotesque with thick, dark fur and glowing eyes that burned with malice. Their claws were longer than a man's arms, and their mouths dripped with poison as their black tongues flicked out, tasting the air.

A howl pierced the night—low and guttural, echoing through the trees. Shaoran felt a chill run through him as he recognized it for what it was. The signal. The rest of the pack was coming.

"More incoming!" Jerry shouted, but there was no time to prepare. The battle was already turning.

Bai threw his rifles to the side with a snarl of frustration. He charged forward, hands gripping one of the Dark Howlers' massive bodies, lifting it effortlessly as if it were a mere toy. With a mighty roar, he slammed the Howler into two others, the impact sending them crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust and blood.

Shaoran watched with a mixture of admiration and disbelief as Bai, though older, fought like a beast himself. His hands and feet were weapons of destruction, no longer relying solely on rifles. He was using the Dark Howlers as tools, lifting their massive bodies and hurling them into their packmates.

The noise of the battle grew even more frenetic. Bullets were running low, rifles began to click empty, and the sound of grunting, slashing, and growling grew louder. People were starting to fall, their screams cut short as claws and fangs met flesh. One man screamed as his leg was torn off by a Howler's claw, his body quickly torn apart by another. Another was crushed under the weight of two Dark Howlers as Bai flung their dead bodies at the enemy.

Shaoran took a deep breath, his fingers twitching as the system's cold, mechanical voice rang in his mind.

"130 Dark Howlers remaining."

His gaze swept over the battlefield, calculating the situation. Old Bai was surrounded, his face grim with determination, but he was holding his own. Jerry, ever the strategist, was giving orders, even as he kept firing, his bullets flying with deadly accuracy. But Shaoran could tell the tide was turning. They couldn't last long at this rate. Not with so many Howlers in the pack.

"Everyone, get to close combat!" Shaoran ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos. His hands moved quickly, grabbing the nearest pickaxe from the pile. He launched it into the air with all his strength, sending it flying toward one of the Howlers. The pickaxe buried itself into the creature's skull, and it dropped to the ground with a sickening thud.

But there were more.

The Howlers moved with a terrifying coordination, flanking the group and picking them off one by one. A young man screamed as a Howler's poisoned bite sank into his arm, the venom quickly spreading through his veins. His screams intensified as his body began to convulse. His comrades tried to pull him away, but they were too late. The poison had already taken hold.

With a flash of movement, Shaoran's hands were free, and his sword was in his grip. He swung it in a wide arc, cutting through the nearest Dark Howler. Blood sprayed, and its body crumpled to the floor. But the creatures were relentless. Another Howler lunged, and Shaoran barely avoided its sharp claws, stepping back just in time to avoid being disemboweled.

"Push them back!" Bai growled, grabbing two Dark Howlers by the scruffs of their necks, lifting them into the air like ragdolls and slamming them into the ground, one after another. Their bodies exploded on impact, blood splattering across the dirt and trees.

The fight was becoming a savage, bloody mess. Howlers and humans alike were locked in a brutal battle. The sounds of blades slicing through flesh mixed with the sickening crunch of bones breaking under the weight of the combatants.

Shaoran's sword cleaved through another Howler, and this time, he didn't pause. He tossed the blade aside and pulled a second pickaxe from his belt, hurling it at a Howler trying to sneak up behind Jerry. It struck true, impaling the creature through its chest, but still, they kept coming.

Bai was using the dead bodies of Howlers as tools, lifting two of them and swinging them like blunt weapons, smashing through the remaining enemies in his path. Blood and entrails sprayed across the battlefield as he tore through them like a force of nature. His movements were slow but unstoppable, and the sheer violence of his attacks sent shockwaves through the dark air.

The fight became a frenzy of blades, knives, and the last remnants of bullets. Jerry continued to bark orders, his face grim and determined, though his movements were starting to slow as he reached for his last magazine. The Howlers were too many, and even their leader seemed to understand that they could overwhelm the humans through sheer force.

The last of Shaoran's pickaxes flew through the air, hitting a Howler dead in the eye, its head exploding in a shower of dark blood. But even with the Howlers dropping like flies, there were still too many. Shaoran knew the numbers wouldn't lie—130 Dark Howlers remaining.

Old Bai, his face twisted in a fierce snarl, grabbed another Howler's body and used it to slam into two of its packmates. The force of the impact caused the creatures to break apart in an explosion of gore.

And then it happened.

The Nightmare Roar.

A Howler, its eyes glowing with madness, lifted its head and unleashed a bone-rattling howl that sent a shockwave through the battlefield. Shaoran staggered back as the sound pierced his mind, a sudden, overwhelming surge of fear flooding his veins. The Howlers, emboldened by the roar, surged forward, attacking with a viciousness that pushed the humans back.

Bai was the first to recover. He pushed his way forward, using his massive strength to throw one Howler across the field, its body breaking against a tree with a sickening crack. But even he was starting to slow.